Red Moons
by Eliss Elusive
Summary: AU. New Dover is a town full of mystery. Vampires, witches, and ghost whisperers all fight to keep their secrets hidden. But when bodies start turning up, how long will it be before their cover is blown? Inspired by the Vampire Diaries.
1. Chapter 1

**Red Moons**

_This town needs a bit of a wake-up call, don`t you think?  
><em>_~ Damon Salvatore, The Vampire Diaries_

"…though the sun should poke out by midafternoon. In other news, the body found in the woods last night has been identified as high school senior Kyle Marcson. The cause of death is unknown, though forensic experts speculate the death was accidental. Classes will still be held at New Dover High today, though a memorial service will be conducted today at 1:00 in the cafeteria. Community members are welcome to attend. In other news…"

Luke shut the TV off and looked to Nathaniel, his uncle. "You know it wasn't me," he said slowly, quietly.

The man stormed out of the room, offering no reassurances. Luke gulped, a million things he'd be able to say to defend himself running through his head. He was careful. He never hunted on people. The few times he'd slipped, he'd been smart enough to get out of the area.

If the council thought he was responsible, he was doomed.

His uncle reentered the room, a phone pressed to his ear. "I know," he murmured, rubbing his temples. "God dammit, you think I don't realize that? Just tell me what happened, and tell me what you told them."

Luke was forced to wait as his uncle paced the length of the living room. He dug his nails into his palms so hard that he began to draw blood. The nervousness he felt in his stomach was rising, becoming so intense that he could feel-

Ice-cold hands wrapped around his neck quickly brought him back to reality. "If I end up having to defend you in front of the council, it's going to be hard if the slightest bit of guilt puts you in this state," Nathaniel said venomously. "Now put your fangs away."

"I'm not guilty!"

"Then you have nothing to worry about." They both knew it wasn't true. "You're lucky it was Dawn who did the autopsy. She snapped the boy's neck, made some story about how he'd probably gotten drunk and fallen, and then an animal got ahold of the body."

"But you know it wasn't me."

"Just get to school."

* * *

><p>Bad luck seemed to follow Percy wherever he went.<p>

It was his first day at a new school. Whatever. It wasn't like he'd been the new kid a thousand other times. Whenever a first day was particularly rough, Percy always took comfort in the fact that they'd probably end up moving in a few weeks anyway.

Something always happened – a freak accident, a minor crime – and Percy always somehow seemed to be in the middle of it.

Things went missing, only to be found in Percy's locker. Someone egged the principal's car, and empty egg cartons somehow found their way into Percy's backpack. Once he'd walked by the cheerleaders while they were practicing the pyramid, right as the base gave out and a girl broke seven different bones.

No one ever directly blamed Percy, but the malicious looks and turned backs made it clear enough that he'd never be accepted. Eventually, his mom would also give up hope and they'd pack up and move, hoping the next town would be the one they stayed at.

New Dover was the third town this year. Percy had gone to sleep feeling hopeful that this would be it, the place he finally fit in.

He woke up to the sound of his mom making breakfast over the muffled voice of a newscaster. He could only pick out a few indistinct words.

"…_body found in the woods last…senior…forensic experts speculate…"_

Percy was completely dressed and down the stairs before the news segment was over. His mom looked at him, worry lines forming on her forehead. "Honey, I'm sure it's nothing," she said, reaching over to shut the TV off. "They think he tripped and snapped his neck. Just an accident."

"I didn't do it!" Percy blurted out, then wished he could put the words back in his mouth. They made him sound so…_guilty_.

"Of course you didn't," his mom said, turning her back and continuing breakfast. Percy saw something blue peek out the edge of the skillet.

"But someone dies and then the new kid shows up, Mom! Do you realize how bad that looks?" Percy protested. "Mom, this happens everywhere we move."

"Honey…"

One look from Percy was enough to make her trail off midsentence. Nervously, she looked at the clock. "Maybe I should drive you to school. We wouldn't want you to be late on your first day."

Translation: _You're acting out and I don't know how to deal with you._

New Dover High wasn't the worst school Percy had ever seen, but it was far from the best. The main portion of the building was brick, though several additions had been added with no regard for cohesiveness. Pasted on the main entrance were signs about how the building was under surveillance and weapons of any kind weren't allowed.

Public schools sure knew how to send a welcoming message. At least there weren't any metal detectors and clear lockers.

People were standing in tight huddles, speaking in whispered tones. Occasionally, Percy caught bits and pieces of conversations. At least no one was staring at him. He wasn't sure if he preferred being invisible to the center of attention.

In front of one of the lockers, a memorial had been constructed. A cheap desk had been propped up, and on it a lone candle burned. People had started writing goodbye messages and attaching them to the table and locker, surrounding a giant picture of a boy's face. He had a lopsided smile and dark brown hair that brushed his blue eyes. He looked so…_alive_.

Percy didn't realize he'd come to a stop until someone roughly brushed past him. "Watch it," he hissed, narrowing his eyes, which were rimmed with a fine ring of red.

Percy felt his face go red. "Sorry," he murmured, staring at the floor. He should have asked his mom if he could stay home another day.

That was when he realized he was still being watched. Slowly, he tore his gaze from the floor, up until he made eye contact with the boy. Those eyes were unnerving, like they were trying to see right through him. "You're new here," he said flatly.

"Yeah, uhh, I mean…" Percy found it hard to think. "I am."

"Look, this is my town. _Do not_ think you can go around pulling shit and blaming it on me. Because I will not hesitate to-"

"Luke!" a blonde girl wearing a tight black top and matching skirt called out. "Come over here!"

The boy, Luke, gave Percy one last glare. "Watch it, kid."

As soon as Luke was gone, Percy let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. In all the different schools he'd attended, he'd never been so quick to make enemies.

That was when he realized he was still standing in front of the memorial, people were looking at him, and he had no idea where he was supposed to go. Percy wasn't the type to cry but frustrated tears pooled in his eyes.

In his peripheral vision, Percy saw someone approach him from the left. For a second, he thought it was the guy again, back to finish his threat.

"Don't mind Luke. He's been a jerk ever since he moved here," a girl's voice said.

Percy gulped. "How long ago was that?"

"Four years," she said tonelessly, then took a step to stand next to him. "It's gaudy, isn't it? Kyle would hate this. He'd laugh at it and go on about how that damn candle is probably going to burn the entire school down."

"Did you…know him?"

"He was my boyfriend."

"Oh…I, uhh…" Percy stammered.

"You don't need to say anything. He was kind of a jerk, honestly." Percy suspected she was trying to convince herself more than him. "I'm Bianca. Now look, you might want to quit standing there or people might start talking. Come on."

Percy awkwardly fell in step with her as she plowed through people in the hallway. Well, plowed wasn't exactly the right word. People seemed prone to avoiding Bianca. Whether it was because of her relation to the dead kid or just her natural personality (she did seem kind of prickly), they had no problem walking through the hallway.

"What did you mean, people might start talking?" Percy asked.

"Are you from around here?"

"No."

"That explains it."

"Explains what?"

Bianca pretended not to hear him. "What's your first class?"

"Um, English?" Bianca shot him a look. "English. My first class is English," he tried to say with more authority. "With Mr. Briggs."

Bianca quickly turned right and headed up a flight of stairs. Percy had to run to catch up with her. "What did you mean before when you said people might start talking? Come on, you can't just bring stuff up and then drop it."

"Are you always this whiney?" Bianca said. However, she did slow down. "New Dover's got a long history. A history full of…_magic_."

"Like rabbits coming out of hats and stuff?"

"No, like spells and ghost," Bianca said, her voice dropping low. Percy stared at her with wide eyes. "And there are stories of creatures that come out of the night and…" The girl burst out laughing. "Really? You're too gullible. But did you see your face? I really had you going there."

Percy frowned. "I don't know…when we lived in San Francisco we had a neighbor who did voodoo. She said she killed her ex-husband."

"You can't believe everything you hear." Bianca's voice suddenly took a serious tone.

"I know, but…" Percy trailed off.

"Or you know. You might end up believing in the stories."

"The stories?"

"Yeah. The legends of the vampires."

_A/N: Lame start. I'm sorry. I promise it'll get better. Like when you find out about the witches and ghost whisperers. So ya know, review and I'll be inspired to tell you all about it. ;)_


	2. Chapter 2

_What's the matter? I have to be a witch, I have to be a mortal, I have to be a teenager, and I have to be a girl all at the same time. That's what's the matter.  
><em>_~ Sabrina Spellman, Sabrina the Teenage Witch_

Rachel Elizabeth Dare had a way of sensing if there was something, well, _off_ about a person. It wasn't like she could see auras or read minds; she just got a strange feeling that she couldn't ignore. It was like goose bumps that wouldn't go away until she wasn't around the person anymore.

Her grandmother claimed it was her supernatural intuition, and that every young witch developed it at some point. Her grandmother had also claimed that by the time she was 15, Rachel would be able to start fires with her mind and see the future in the stars.

And the funny thing was Rachel completely believed her. Witchcraft had been in her family since New Dover had been founded. Her grandmother had been a witch, her father had been the link, and Rachel was a half-witch, a witch in training.

Witches were all about links.

Another thing her grandmother had taught Rachel witches were all about was intuition. Keeping that in mind, Rachel dared to peek at the new boy sitting to the left of her. She was sure it was him who was making her feel something strange.

It wasn't rare that one of her fellow students made her feel weird. New Dover had a long and complicated history with magic. Many people could trace their roots to the original founders, all of whom had been magical in some way.

But of course, few people believed those _stories_.

The point was anyone who had some connection to the magic made her get a tingly feeling inside, even if the magic had been dormant in their family for years. However, few people gave her a feeling quite this strong.

Rachel pretended to toss her red curls over her shoulder and dared another look at the new kid. She'd had three classes with him and heard him say four words, not that she was counting. Knowing so little about him, she was left to speculate.

Maybe his mom was a witch. It wouldn't be the first time one moved to New Dover in order to be around more of her kind. Or maybe he himself was a witch-removed, an anomaly, a male that could practice magic.

The boy looked up from his desk and made eye contact with Rachel. That was when she realized she'd been staring.

A second too late, she ducked her head, her cheeks on fire. She was going to put the new kid out of her mind. She was going to focus on the teacher's voice and try to learn about whatever he was teaching. She was going to…

Rachel had never been good at staying focused.

Deciding that it was pointless to try, Rachel let her mind wander. She opened her notebook to a new piece of paper and absently began a sketch. Her grandmother had warned her countless times that witches had to be careful what they created – from music, to art, even food. Especially young witches, who couldn't control their magic.

Rachel had also never been good at listening.

The teacher continued to drone about…what class was she even in? She tuned into the lecture for a few seconds.

"…and the atom has a positive nucleus consisting of protons and neutrons. The electrons-"

Oh, right. Science. She was certain she wasn't the only one not listening. Most students were wrapped up in the death of Kyle Marcson. Honestly, Rachel wasn't sure who'd had the idea to announce at 7:15 this morning that he'd been found dead, then expect all the students to show up and go about their day normally.

It wasn't that everyone was so depressed that the math teachers should hide the compasses, but rather that everyone was so caught up in the intrigue of it all. In between class periods, Rachel had started making a list of all the different mourning archetypes that were showing up.

A. There were the girls who suddenly had known Kyle his whole life and been his best friend/secret lover. They were all wearing black, and made sure that their eyes looked perpetually teary. When they thought no one was looking, they pulled out compact mirrors to make sure their mascara hadn't been smudged.

B. There were the guys who pretended they'd always gone out partying with Kyle. They were the first ones to tell you how wild he'd always gotten, and how he'd probably had it coming.

C. There were the confused underclassmen who really didn't know Kyle from any other guy. Still, they were quiet in the halls around the upperclassmen and candles in front of the pseudo-memorial that had been constructed.

D. There were the crazy people who were theorizing how Kyle's death hadn't been an accident. Rachel tried to steer clear of those people, mostly because she was in the same boat and didn't want to say too much.

E. There were the people who actually cared.

During second hour, news had leaked that there were going to be cameras at the memorial service, leading to sudden outbursts by groups A, B, and D. They wanted to see their images immortalized for two seconds on the 7:00 news.

Rachel worried about people sometimes. Really, she did.

That was when she looked down at her paper and dropped her pencil.

On the piece of lined notebook paper was a picture of New Dover's woods – or at least, that's what Rachel assumed it was. However, what she didn't have to assume about was the boy she'd drawn walking through them.

She'd drawn the perfect likeness of Kyle Marcson.

In the picture, he looked tense and alert. A cell phone was clutched tightly in one hand and a flashlight in the other. And his eyes were focused on something to his right, an indistinct smudge, a few lines that Rachel had begun to draw before she'd stopped.

Rachel bit her lip and tried to recall what she'd been drawing, but couldn't force her hand to fill in the few lines she'd drawn. Maybe if she just focused harder, concentrated more…

The bell rang, instigating a mad stampede for the door. Rachel groaned. There was no way she'd be able to finish the rest of the drawing now, a nagging voice in the back of her head told her she really should try harder. It was important that she finished it.

"Hey, um, do you have geometry next?" Seven more words; Rachel counted without thinking about it. She looked up, expecting the new boy to be standing next to her desk. She'd tell him that yes, she did have geometry, and since he presumably didn't know where it was, she'd walk him to the room and take the time to try and figure out why he'd come to New Dover.

Only, when she looked up, Rachel found that he was talking to the girl next to her: Annabeth Chase.

Of course. Annabeth Chase, the golden girl of the class, and the least magical person Rachel knew. People who looked to the answers for everything in books instead of their own intuition usually were. Rachel and Annabeth had always hated each other. In fact, they'd been enemies for so long that neither of them remembered the original reason they'd begun to dislike each other.

"Yeah, I do," Annabeth told him. "Just stick with me. I'll show you where it is. Wouldn't want you getting involved with the wrong crowd of people."

Rachel didn't have to look up to know Annabeth had looked at her as she'd made that last comment. As soon as she was certain the two of them were gone, she gathered her books and stood up. She crumpled the half-finished picture she'd made and threw it into the recycling bin.

Sometimes she wished she could just be normal.

* * *

><p>Silena was used to getting what she wanted, especially when the male sex was involved. All she really needed to do was bat her eyelashes and pretend to be interested in whatever they had to say for a few minutes, then whisper a few naughty words and the boy was hers.<p>

Unless, of course, the boy happened to be Luke Castellan.

At the beginning of her sophomore year, Silena had decided that she was going to make Luke hers, one way or another. Four months later, she wasn't even convinced she could call him her friend. He was so secretive, so guarded.

He'd willingly sat next to her during the memorial service for the dead kid after she'd asked him to this morning. However, he'd been silent the whole time.

Silena adjusted the hemline of her skirt and tugged her top down a bit before trying to talk to Luke. Lightly, she touched his arm and leaned close to him. "Do you think it was really an accident?" she whispered, delighted that her voice held the perfect balance of grief and curiosity.

Luke shrugged out of her grip. "That's what they said on the news, isn't it?" he responded, looking her in the eyes. Silena had always loved his eyes, especially their perfect baby blue color. Today, however, his eyes were rimmed with red, and he kept blinking, like something was irritating him.

"It said they're speculating that it was an accident," Silena pushed. "What if there's a killer in New Dover?"

Luke's eyes narrowed. "It was an accident."

Silena rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

Luke sighed. "Just think about it. Why would someone be lurking in the woods in January? It's freezing. Kyle probably got drunk and someone took his keys. Maybe he thought he could walk home and got lost. He could have just fallen and snapped his neck."

Silena flipped her hair and studied her nails. "I wish you weren't so morbid. Besides, Kyle wasn't the partying type. He spent his weekends with the freaky di Angelo girl. I have psychology with her and she's so…different. Like, she never talks – just sits there and watches the rest of it. When she writes in her notebook I feel like she's making a list of future victims or something, or…"

Luke wasn't listening. He never did unless she kept her sentences short.

"Do you think she could have killed him?" Silena blurted out without thinking.

The seconds until Luke responded went by painfully slowly. "Anything's possible," he finally said. "But really, you call me morbid and then say that?" He offered her a small smile.

The small gesture made Silena feel like she'd made exponential progress. "That whole family's weird. I mean, they live above a funeral home. How creepy is that?"

"I don't know, Silena. What do you know about the new kid?"

Silena tried not to be affronted by the sudden change of topics. "He's a freshman. His name is Percy Jackson. This is his third school this year." The last bit of information seemed to upset Luke. "But no one really knows that much about him."

"It's weird that someone goes missing and then a new family just shows up."

"You're being paranoid."

"Am I?" Luke gave Silena a crooked grin. Somehow, it made the thin scar on his face seem more noticeable. Silena had always wanted to ask him how he'd gotten it, but never had the nerve. "You're the one who thinks there's a killer on the loose."

Before Silena could respond, the lights were dimmed and a hushed silence prevailed. A projector had been set up at the front of the cafeteria, where not even half an hour ago they'd been serving food. The principal said a few brief words about what a great student Kyle had been and what a tragic loss his death was before announcing that a slideshow of pictures would play for the next half hour and students were free to grieve together.

"Talk about hastily thrown together," Luke murmured. Silena silently agreed, running her fingertips over Luke's hand. Any other guy wouldn't have been able to resist her right then. Luke didn't even seem to notice.

Silena squeezed Luke's hand in frustration. He shouldn't have been able to act so stone cold while she was in physical contact with him.

Abruptly, Luke pulled his hand away from hers. "What are you trying to do, Silena?"

"Nothing."

She was trying to figure out why he was immune to what she did. Why her power worked on every male but him.

After all, she was the child of a succubus.

_Notes: Succubi and witches, oh my! Reviews are love. _


End file.
